The dead cafeteria slowly came alive again after the captain left.
Sam's eyes lit up as he looked at the two metallic badges lying on the table.
"Whoa—captain badges for 10C and 10D."
Ashi picked them up, tossing one lightly into the air before catching it again, resting his chin on his hand.
The metallic shine reflected faintly in his sharp eyes—beautiful, but cold.
Max raised an eyebrow. "You don't look happy for someone who just became a captain."
Ashi's lips twitched into a smirk. "You want to be one?" He extended a badge toward Max.
Max waved it off. "Not interested, thanks."
Tom chuckled quietly, shaking his head.
Same old Ashi… he thought to himself, tapping something on his tablet.
The light-hearted banter continued until the cafeteria atmosphere suddenly shifted again.
No one had entered—yet murmurs rippled through the crowd like a spreading current.
Students began checking their phones, whispering, standing up.
The hum of conversation turned to confusion.
Moco frowned. "What's going on? Why's everyone leaving?"
Ashi turned to Tom, eyes narrowing slightly.
That look said it all.
Check it.
Tom nodded, unlocking his tablet. His fingers swiped across the screen, scrolling the school's social page.
His expression darkened almost instantly.
Sam leaned forward. "What happened?"
Tom's voice dropped. "Shh... What else? A fight just broke out."
Ashi clicked his tongue. "Tch—let's go see what's happening."
They stood together, chairs scraping against the floor. Curiosity—and something sharper—flashed across their faces.
Sam stretched his arms, grinning like a kid before a circus act. "Finally, something exciting. I was getting bored since morning."
Max sighed. "Oh, please. We're not here to join the fight, so don't get carried away."
Ashi: "Yeah. Don't do anything unnecessary."
Sam: "But what if someone needs my help? As a future hero, I can't ignore their cries!"
Moco groaned. "Oh, shut up already."
Tom: "It's not our problem anyway. If someone needs help, the council will handle it."
But when they reached the first-floor hallway—
The sound hit first.
A storm of noise. Shouts. Flesh meeting flesh. The metallic clang of a chair.
Dozens of students stood in a wide circle. Inside it, chaos reigned.
Two groups clashed like rabid animals—twelve against seven.
No order. No rhythm. Just desperation and rage.
The air was thick—sweat, tension, fear—and something else: excitement.
Ashi's brows furrowed. "What the hell is this? Some kind of prank?"
It wasn't the chaos that confused him—it was the quality of it.
Their punches were wild. No stance. No form. Just blind swings.
Sam snorted. "Wow. Is this the 'Who's the Weakest' tournament or something?"
None of them moved. It was obvious how this would end.
But then they noticed the real picture.
A group of boys lounged on benches nearby, watching—smirking, amused.
They weren't part of the fight. They owned it.
One of them clapped mockingly.
"Hey! Fight properly, I've got money bet on you! Lose and I'll beat your ass later!"
Another laughed. "Yeah, don't be pathetic! Hit him harder! You better win!"
Their voices echoed like rotten laughter in a church.
And Ashi understood.
They weren't rivals.
They were entertainment.
Bullies forcing weaker kids to fight for fun.
Ashi muttered, voice dripping disgust. "Ahh, shitheads. Are they insane or what?"
Tom: "Where the hell's the council when you need them?"
Sam grinned. "Should I spice things up a little?"
Moco: "Stop it. Did you forget what you were told?"
Ashi's patience thinned. His jaw tightened, knuckles cracking as he leaned forward—
ready to move—
when a firm grip caught his arm.
Max.
A silent shake of the head.
Before Ashi could protest—
A thunderous voice exploded through the corridor.
"YOU FUCKERS, STOP THE COMMOTION RIGHT NOW!"
The hallway froze.
It wasn't just a shout—it was command.
Sound itself seemed to kneel before it.
Even the fighters paused mid-swing, blinking in confusion.
The voice came from a classroom door marked 10A.
Max's eyes widened. That's my class.
Two figures stepped out.
The first—a tall, muscular boy, easily 6'2".
Every step he took was unhurried, heavy with control.
The air bent subtly around him—like his presence weighed more than gravity itself.
Beside him—a girl, 5'8", sharp eyes like glass blades.
Her beauty was undeniable, but her irritation burned hotter than it.
Confidence wrapped around her like perfume.
The crowd instinctively parted.
They didn't have to speak—their aura did.
Max's mind flicked. Wait… I've seen them before.
The girl—always by the window, quiet, composed.
The guy—always asleep at the back, unbothered, expression blank.
Now awake, his gaze was a weapon.
The muscular guy's voice rumbled through the hall again.
"Don't you idiots have any other place to cause trouble? Get lost before I make you regret standing here."
The girl crossed her arms. "You people were so loud, I couldn't even focus on self-study."
He smirked slightly. "And I couldn't sleep."
A few nervous laughs escaped the crowd.
Then one of the bullies stood—grinning like a hyena.
He swaggered forward, his shoes echoing against the marble floor.
The tall guy's eyes followed him, calm, unreadable.
The boy walked closer… and closer… until he brushed past him entirely.
The tall guy's jaw twitched. His head turned slowly—cold eyes narrowing.
The bully stopped in front of the girl, smirk still plastered on his face.
"Oh, I'm really sorry if we disturbed your study session. I told these fools to fight quietly, but you know how it is. Wouldn't want to bother a beauty."
The girl's gaze dropped to his shoes, then rose slowly to his face.
Her eyes could've cut glass.
Still, she said nothing.
He leaned closer. "Oh, come on, don't look at me like that—"
A hand landed on his shoulder.
Firm. Heavy.
The tall guy's tone was ice.
"Hey. Did you not hear what I said just now?"
The bully turned lazily, forcing a grin.
"Can't you see I'm busy?"
He squared up—nose to nose. His crew rose from the benches, surrounding them like wolves.
"Do you even know who we are?" he sneered.
No response.
The muscular guy just looked at him.
That silence was heavier than any threat.
And the bully's smirk faltered—just a little.
Trying to regain ground, he chuckled. "You see those two?"
He pointed at two of his friends. "They're national-level boxers."
He gestured to another. "And that guy was Asia's under-16 Aikido champion."
He spread his arms, confidence returning. "So before you open that mouth of yours again—"
He didn't finish.
CRACK.
One second, he was talking.
The next, his body was airborne—slammed into the floor face-first several meters away.
The sound echoed through the hall like thunder.
He didn't move.
Silence.
No one saw the strike. No windup. No blur.
Just impact.
All eyes turned toward the tall guy.
He hadn't moved since. His arm hung half-raised, calm, steady—like he'd simply swatted a fly.
Even the girl didn't flinch. She sighed softly, brushing hair from her cheek.
"Again?" she muttered under her breath.
The rest of the bullies hesitated—then roared, pride burning through fear.
"GET HIM!"
And chaos ignited again.
The fight was brutal—but not wild.
Every motion of the tall guy was sharp, professional—a kickboxer's dance of destruction.
A shin collided with a rib. Crack.
An elbow smashed into a nose. Snap.
Bodies hit walls, desks, floors.
Within moments, six of them were down—groaning, gasping, defeated.
He didn't rush. Didn't waste energy.
Just efficient, surgical violence.
The hallway smelled of iron and silence.
He turned away, calm, done.
But then—
A desperate grunt.
The last bully, the only one left untouched, charged at his back.
He didn't even reach halfway.
The girl moved.
No hesitation. No mercy.
In a blink, the boy was on the floor, arm twisted, body pinned.
He screamed—a sharp crack silenced him.
Her hold broke his arm clean.
The crowd froze.
The muscular guy turned back, expression unchanged.
The boy whimpered on the floor.
The girl stood over him, her voice cold and precise.
"Pathetic."
Silence flooded the hallway again.
Even Ashi's group—watching from the crowd—couldn't help but stare.
Then—
Footsteps.
Slow. Calm. Heavy.
Someone new entered the scene.
The crowd parted once more, whispers spreading like fire.
Even the fallen bullies turned their heads.
It was Bam.
---